This is a work of Fiction.. sort of .
This is for you, "Daddy".
I was just 18 when I ventured to the united states from Mexico. I was alone, hungry, dirty and scared. I like many others wanted to grab the American
Dream by the tail and not let go. Some would say that I did. Others? I'm not sure. The way things turned out, even I am surprised. Never did I envision meeting
Him or living the way that I do. People just don't understand. I can explain it, but I'm not sure they are listening.
"What society says and what society does are two different things," He starts. He begins to pace about in front of me, looking down at me on the floor.
I was sitting down to write home to my mom and tell her all about my fabulous job waiting tables at some hole in the wall in San Antonio, Texas. Noble of me,
right? I look up. He takes a drag off of his cigarette, extinguishing it in the ashtray; He continues. " Now when I tell you, baby girl that there aren't many like us
in the public eye, I mean it." I look at him, and back down signing my name..... Mariana.
Now you may think it odd that a man his age be interested in a young girl like me. Hell, even I was surprised. But every morning, like clock work, he
would come into the diner and order the same thing - 2 eggs- over easy,Sausage,Buckwheat Pancakes,Biscuits and Gravy, a large Milk and lots of Coffee. I
often wondered how a man his size could eat so much? Not that I ever seen him eat it, he always took it to go. Curiosity got the better of me one day, so I
I looked up at him his hazel eyes catching the refraction of the over head light nearest the cash register. My instinct was to look down. He has that
way about him, a commanding presence. "Look up at Me, baby girl," he says thoughtfully. I do as asked. "Every morning I come in here, and your throat
catches and you look away from Me. Is there something that you want to say to Me?" He asks coyly. "Well, Sir..I was just wondering' how come you always take
so much food away from here and always the same order..." I stop myself before I make a fool out of myself and look down quickly. He smirks. "Never, ever ask
the questions you do not truly want to know the answers to." He slaps a $20 on the counter and walks out.
You may think it's not that big of a deal, but this is pertinent to my story because this was in an essence my beginning to the end. He stirred
something in me, something that at the time I could not explain. The way he looked at me, the tone, the command, and the confidence that he exhibited made my
stomach flutter; and for some reason I was excited for tomorrow to come.
In addition to my uniform, I have a thing for stockings with laced tops. My Mother would have killed me should she witness such harlot like
behavior. Our legs are meant to be covered for Christ’s sake! But what Mommy didn’t know, couldn't hurt her! I was here living the grown up life, and making
my own decisions..which I am thankful I don't have to make anymore, because He makes them for me.
His name is "Daddy". No, he's not my real daddy, but having never had one, I guess he's close enough..though I don't imagine other girls crave their
daddies like I crave mine. His lips tender across my flesh; his palm able to caress, other times wielding a sting if I should need correction.
"Let me see," he said reaching down for the letter I had written to my mom. I hand it to him careful to not make eye contact with him. It's not that I am
scared of him, quite the opposite. As I said, the way that he looks at me makes my stomach flutter, and my pulse quicken. I'm not supposed to top from the
bottom he says, and that's something that I am trying to work on. A Dominissive has no place in his presence he says. I didn't until recently understand what
exactly a Dominissive was, and to please him and earn his favor over the other girls in the house I want not to be one. The letter must have been to his
approval, because he handed it back to me with a nod.
The day that everything changed was exactly one month after I asked him about his eating habits. It was one of those days that nothing was going to
go right, and I would have rather stayed in bed with the blankets pulled high over my head. Walking to work, it started to rain. When it rains in Texas it really
rains, and there is no warning. The rain pools up in the streets to be a few inches deep, and I of course was not prepared. I got splashed by a truck on top of
being soaked to the bone, and in trying to avoid the onset of more traffic I managed to break the left heel of my black patent leather pump, which made me late
for work. What was I to do? I couldn't work with one shoe, and if I turned around and went back to the apartment I would probably be fired. On the next street
corner up at the traffic light, I put a quarter into the pay phone. I was trying to call and tell my boss that I would be late, which would have worked had the
damned phone not eaten my coin. This job was important to me not only because it put food on my table, it put food on my Mother's. I sat down under the
overhang and began to cry. And then, He came. Like an angel, or the devil I cannot decide. He put his hand on my shoulder, "Rough day, huh?" he said with a
smile. I wipe my nose on the back of my hand. "It's ruined," I say pointing at my uniform now covered in rain puddle slush. And this thing!" I fling my heel into
the road "Broke, and I don't have money to buy a new pair, and the phone ate my money, and I'm late for work!" He said nothing more at first, but offered me his
large strong hand. "Up." He commands. Damn those butterflies. I do as I'm told. "Thanks, " I mutter. "Now, anything else you need to scream about, girl?" Ugh!
The way he refers to me as girl makes the pit of my stomach whirl. I crinkle my nose in frustration, pulling my hand out of his, as I step out of my other shoe.
"What does it matter to you, anyways?" I ask defiant of my stomach "It doesn't. However where I come from you offer a hand."
Little did I know, my life was about to change..
to be continued...